Breaking Me Down
by xKesshoux
Summary: Our hearts are things that we don't always understand, and our minds don't always agree with them. When it comes to him, Sasuke finds, Itachi simply doesn't want to share, and he's never been able to fight it. ItaSasu, rated for later chapters. COMPLETE.
1. Innocence Fading

Holy crap it's been a long time since I posted here! Oh well! Figured I might as well! Of course there's the rather obvious disclaimer that, oh, I don't own this series (because I am most certainly not a Japanese man). Well, hope you all enjoy this! The people on lj seemed to! Also note: The angst and suggestive material cough comes in the next chapter.

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It was a sweltering, sticky, late summer day that Uchiha Sasuke received his first kiss. 

He was sprawled (in a way that children and those without a care in the world are apt to do) on the porch overlooking his mother's garden and the small pond in the middle of it, letting his mind melt into a fuzzy sort of blankness to the tune of the cicadas buzzing in the trees. The longer he lay there, the more lethargic he became, eyelids drifting shut as the heat washed over him even from his spot in the awning's shade, pulling him into a lazy daze as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

A boy of nearly seven, he thought with both a stubborn determination and a childish innocence, the wish to train himself stronger than the want to play like any other child would. Still, the temperatures had him confined to the porch, even though he knew that if his father saw him he would be in for a scolding.

His brother would be home soon, he realized then, eyes fluttering open as he sat up, an unyielding excitement buzzing through his small form. He squinted through the bright afternoon sun towards the side gate into the garden, knowing that Itachi would come through it in order to catch a moment's rest before facing their parents (he wasn't a stupid child, he noticed things). He found himself almost dozing off sitting up, though, before a shadow blocking out the light over his eyes suddenly snapped him back to attention.

"Brother!" he nearly cried, jumping to his feet. A brilliant smile nearly tore his face in two as he looked up at the tired and dirty form of the person he admired most of all, noting the way the older boy's features softened just slightly (just for him, nobody else).

"Sasuke..." came the low reply, exhausted but affectionate (even if only he could pick it out of that voice) as Itachi knelt before him, dark eyes meeting dark eyes. "Does father know you're out here lazing about?"

He looked away at that, a slight blush capturing his childish features. "I was gonna train, but it got really hot..." he murmured sheepishly, feet shuffling against the wood of the porch. "But I was just resting for a little while!" he insisted, looking back to his brother's eyes again stubbornly and noticing quite suddenly how close Itachi had gotten while he wasn't looking.

There was only a moment for him to ponder it and the butterflies flitting around in his stomach before the older boy did what he found at first to be the most peculiar thing. Lips pressed firmly against his in a kiss that was certainly nothing like what his mother used to give him, something warm and wet (that he soon realized was a tongue) prodding gently to get them apart. He opened his mouth to question or protest or say _something_, but all that earned him was Itachi's tongue invading his mouth, and by that point all he could do was grip tightly onto the front of his brother's shirt and tremble at the feeling that he wasn't quite sure was unwelcome.

When the older boy finally pulled back, Sasuke was flushed and gasping for air, little lungs starved for oxygen and feeling rather lightheaded. Before he was able to ask Itachi just what that was and what it was for, however, his brother stood and moved past him into the house without a word. When he moved to follow, he found his legs were a bit wobbly, and when he stepped into the kitchen, his mother turned and gasped.

"Sasuke! Oh, look at you, you're all flushed! You've been out in the heat too long, you'll make yourself sick! Let me get you some water, dear, have a seat."

The youngest Uchiha nodded slowly, finding that sitting was actually a great idea as he listened to Mikoto pour him a glass of water and the ice clinking together and crackling. He sipped it as she instructed him to, slowly and carefully, and it did help a little, even though he knew that it wasn't really the sun that had made him feel the way he did.

The rest of the day went by quickly, and despite his constant glances toward his brother over dinner (unnoticed by their parents, too absorbed in their own troubles), Itachi never offered him so much as a look, as if nothing had changed. He wondered over his beef and rice whether it was something that all siblings did, but as the older boy stood and left the table (bowing and excusing himself), he realized that something like that couldn't possibly be true.

Unable to sleep that night, Sasuke found himself standing just outside Itachi's door, hesitant on entering but feeling the nagging questions that kept him awake nonetheless. After several long moments of debating over whether to just open the door and slip inside, the decision was made for him by his brother's voice.

"Sasuke, are you planning on standing out there all night?" the voice asked, and he jumped, sliding the door open and stepping inside only to shut it again as he stared at his feet, embarrassed. He stood that way for another long several moments before a sigh from the bed caused him to raise his head in time to see Itachi beckoning him forward.

Self consciously, he followed the silent command, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed when it was patted and fidgeting nervously. He'd meant to ask about what Itachi had done earlier that day, but now he found that he couldn't quite form the words.

"Brother... Um..." he started, shaking his head once and crawling into the older boy's lap so he could just make out his face in the dim lighting. "What does it mean when you do this?" he asked finally, clumsily replicating the kiss they had shared earlier. He felt Itachi stiffen suddenly and moved to pull away, but a strong arm moving around his waist and a hand at the back of his head kept him in place and he gasped, confused but not disliking the way his brother took hold of the kiss and deepened it as before.

Sasuke was breathless and panting by the time they broke apart this time, and Itachi lingered this time as well, tongue tracing the boy's kiss bruised lips slowly as hot breaths puffed out against them. He was feeling dizzy again, though he wasn't sure if it was what his brother had done to him or the lack of oxygen that was making him that way.

"Sasuke..." came something then that was and wasn't his brother. It came from Itachi's lips, yes, but the sound of it was something completely different than anything he'd ever heard the older boy say. It sounded lower than usual, with a slightly rough edge to it and he wasn't sure if the shiver that ran down his spine was out of fear and confusion or something else entirely as he tried to identify the unknown look in Itachi's eyes.

"B-brother... What about my question?" he whispered, timidly, and suddenly, the look was gone and his brother sat back, releasing him from his hold. He felt a chill against his face and realized how much Itachi's breath must have warmed it.

The older boy seemed almost to ponder his response, watching Sasuke fidget with a cool gaze. "Mother and Father do it," came the response, finally, and it seemed only to attract more questions.

"But what does it mean?" he asked again, not moving from his spot in his brother's lap.

"Mother and Father do it because they love each other," came the next response, and the smaller boy seemed to ponder it.

"So it's something that moms and dads do? But you're my brother..." he reasoned, shifting a bit (missing the way Itachi bit the inside of his lip and his eyelids fluttered just slightly) and pouting.

"Do you love me, Sasuke?" came the elder's question then, and Sasuke barely had to think before giving his answer.

"Of course I do!" he declared, though the pout was still present.

"Do you dislike it?" came the second question, and the younger had to think about it this time.

"No..." he answered finally, frowning. He wasn't sure where Itachi was going with this, and he wasn't sure if they were even supposed to do it.

"It'll be our little secret then, alright? You can't tell Mother or Father or anyone else. Think of it like a game that just you and I can play together." Itachi looked at him sternly, but then gave him a smile once he nodded understanding. "You should go back to bed now, Sasuke," he prodded, and with enough insisting, the boy finally left for his own room.

Over the next two years, there were many, many more kisses, sometimes marks that high collared Uchiha shirts were perfect for hiding, and likely due to Itachi's excercise of impeccable control, nothing more than that. At the end of it all, though, Sasuke lay face to face with the corpses of his parents and stared terrified into the eyes of somebody who was no longer his brother at all.

At eight years old, Sasuke learned to feel hatred and disgust for each and every one of those kisses.

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Alright then! Comments are appreciated, let me know what you think! Chapter 2 should be up within a week or so, hopefully within a few days, since I've been working on it off and on. 


	2. Losing Yourself

So here we are at chapter two. General disclaimer of not owning still applies. Notes for this chapter? Well, it contains the mature content promised, but I'm not sure I like how it turned out. I don't think it flows quite as well as the first chapter, especially once it gets to the matter of smut. Still, I wouldn't want to disappoint by not uploading at all, so here it is. Hope you all enjoy despite it all!

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It was six years later, to the day, when Sasuke received his first taste of something more than lips and tongue and hot, hot breath; the only difference was that this sweltering summer day tore open the dark clouds above and rained down its hated memories onto the head of an older, colder Uchiha. 

When the rain hit, he'd been training nearby, and this was his closest cover. This porch that he'd sprawled out on in the sun so many times, though now the wood was slowly rotting, the garden overgrown and the pond hardly anything more than a mud pit filled now with murky rainwater.

Dark eyes as hard as the late-summer rainstorm scorned the weeds that had overrun the once thriving vegetable patch, the flower garden, the lawn itself. The grass grew as high as it could without anyone to tame it, giving this broken and abandoned place (not a home, not anymore, not for almost five years now) a rather wild look. He hated it.

Shaking the water from his hair (almost as unruly as Mother's garden now), he stripped off his shirt and armbands, wringing them out and laying it out next to him in hopes that they would dry at least a little bit before he left. His shorts and shoes were in a similarly soggy condition, but even though this place was long deserted, he wasn't comfortable bearing himself to the world. His shoes and the wraps on his legs came off, but the shorts remained.

Sasuke scowled at how damp he was, hoping that the heat would do _something_ to dry him off, despite how humid it was from the rain. The memories coming back to him weren't doing anything for his lousy mood, either, and he stood, moving into the house that haunted him in search of memories that would wipe away the tingling of his lips and the feel of fingers against his cheek.

Lately, the memories were growing stronger again, the dreams becoming more frequent and he wondered if it was because of this day or if it was merely a warning sign. He walked from room to room, the memories chasing him as he tried to push them away with the bloodstains on the walls and in his mind.

_There against the wall just before Mother and Father returned home, just here, where bruises were made and his back was scratched up (he'd cried then and Itachi had stopped) and Father was skeptical when he said that he'd fallen._ He shook the memory away, replacing it with the smell of blood and the sight of a dozen corpses, lights out before midnight and the crack in the Uchiha crest. Over the years, he'd gotten better and better at replacing Itachi's kisses with his parents' faces in death and the slowly congealing pools of blood where a happy family once lived and laughed and were long since dead.

A chill settled over him in the house of death and memories, despite the muggy heat and stale air, hair standing on the back of his neck at the feeling of being watched. He turned slowly, Sharingan bleeding into his eyes and there was nobody there. He searched the crimson shadows, looking for any movement at all in the dusty space, any disturbance, and he found _none_.

He wasn't crazy, he _wasn't_, that was his brother's job. The color nearly drained from his face at the feeling of fingertips on his bare back and a cool breath chilling against his ear that almost sounded like his name, but when he spun around, kunai at the ready, the space behind him was empty. "I don't believe in ghosts..." he whispered, though he wasn't sure if it was to himself or to the presence he felt around him.

At the sound of a single footstep, he knew there was somebody else here, and, on alert, he slowly moved down the corridor towards the source of the sound despite the warning bells that were going off in his head. Whoever it was, this person disrupting the memories in this house, was _playing_ with him. By the time he'd made it back to the courtyard, he knew that each sound (each clue) was there just for him, and he knew that he heard it because this intruder wanted to be heard.

The twist in his gut at the sudden, sharp comparison to a game of cat and mouse set off a series of conflicting thoughts. _What if it was _him He shook his head, finding that he both wished it was for the sake of his hatred, and wished it wasn't for a reason that he wasn't exactly sure of.

He stood there, next to his previously discarded articles of clothing, meeting the rain with a crimson glare this time and once again feeling those eyes on him. "I'm sick of this _game_," he told the heavy drops, listening to the ground being pounded relentlessly and the wind in the trees as a steady roar, drowning his senses. "If you want to be seen then show yourself!"

When nothing answered him but the steady beat of the rain, he scowled, reaching down for his shirt so he could just go home and dry off there. The kunai that embedded itself into the blue fabric, pinning it to the porch, was unexpected. The grip on his wrist was too sudden to react to, and the next thing he knew he was pressed against the old wood, a warm weight at his back that kept him there.

He bucked and struggled against his captor, but it proved utterly useless as he was pressed more solidly against the floor, black laquered nails on familiar (oh so familiar) fingers drifting into view to retrieve the thrown kunai. When the man that held him down spoke, there was no doubting who it was.

"Sasuke..." the voice murmured, too close to his ear and sending a completely involuntary shiver down his spine. As bitter memories resurfaced, they brought a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach with them, and he tried again to jerk his arm free, biting his lip until it bled at the angle it was positioned in.

"The less you fight, the less I'll have to hurt you, little brother..." came that voice again, the shock at the feeling of lips and tongue on his ear enough of a distraction that his hands were bound before he knew what had happened.

"Bastard!" he spat, feeling no give in the bindings when he struggled against them. His response was a harsh bite to the shell of his ear, raven hair tickling his cheeks that wasn't his that caused a shudder and he could almost _feel_ the way those tratorous lips curved upwards.

"Don't you like this, Sasuke?" his brother murmured, lips moving down along the side of the younger's pale neck, eliciting more unwanted shivers and dredging up just as unwanted memories. It seemed that Itachi still remembered all the spots that made him squirm, and it sickened him that he couldn't stop it.

He nearly screamed when the elder's teeth dug into the seal on his shoulder, pain searing through his nerves and stealing the breath from his lungs. He barely felt the way he was being rolled onto his back through it all, but his eyes snapped open as words brushed lips together and into a bruising kiss. _'You belong to _me_, little brother...'_

When the first moan slipped unbidden from Sasuke's throat, he felt the fight leave his limbs, thoughts rushing through his head that he wasn't sure how to interpret. He didn't know what it all meant, but when Itachi's palm rubbed his half-hard erection through the fabric of his shorts, he couldn't help the way his hips practically bucked into the attention.

"I hate you...!" he choked out, even as his entire body trembled and betrayed him, the sigh of pleasure that followed when Itachi ran his tongue around the dusky shade of a nipple completely cancelling his words out. He struggled weakly again, but his movements only brushed his groin against his brother's hand even more, the bindings on his wrists biting into his skin as he bit back a groan. This wasn't happening, it _wasn't!_

It wasn't until the elder leaned down to lick the blood from his lip that he realized he'd bitten it open again. He was going to tell Itachi to fuck off and die, but the insult faded into something more like a 'fu-uuhh!' sound as his shorts and boxers were removed quickly and easily to leave him exposed to the open air. Itachi, he noticed, took the opening to his advantage, and Sasuke soon found a tongue invading his mouth.

He absently had the thought to bite the invading tongue clean off, but his body (along with the rest of his mind), he learned rather quickly, had other plans. He felt the flush across his cheeks as his eyes fluttered closed, and suddenly it was like he was six going on seven all over again, only this time, there was nothing for him to grab onto, and he found himself pitifully clawing at the porch.

Despite the sick feeling curling in the pit of his stomach, Itachi was forcing him to remember just how much he'd enjoyed the older boy's touch, as much as he'd tried to forget it over the past four years. He kept forgetting to breathe with the way that tongue kept teasing his own, and his head was spinning from the lack of oxygen, though he was vaguely aware that he was kissing his brother back now. When a clothed groin suddenly ground down against his, Itachi swallowed the resulting moan and bit down harshly on Sasuke's lower lip before pulling away.

Through the fog in his brain, Sasuke managed to bite back the whimper that tried to worm its way from his throat, opening his eyes to give Itachi a glare that was half clouded with lust. "Sick bastard..." he growled, trying to bite at the thumb that traced his swollen lip and watching as the cloak (red clouds, he wasn't sure why or what they meant) that his brother was wearing slid from his shoulders. His brother looked at him almost indifferently, and it irritated him to no end.

"Don't you enjoy it, little brother? Don't you want more?" came Itachi's response, and he heard clearly the way it was just a bit lower than what it had been before. He glared in return, ready to spit out that no, no he didn't want more and no, he didn't enjoy it at all (which was a lie, and he knew it). Before he could, however, Itachi rocked his hips against him again, and he let out a shuddering breath at the friction of fabric against skin. "Even if you don't, surely you'll want it by the time I'm done..." There was no question in his brother's voice, and somehow, Sasuke knew that he was probably right, especially the way things were going now.

When Itachi began to lift his shirt, he swallowed thickly and looked away to glare at some undefined point to his left, but obviously, his brother would have none of that.

"Look at me, Sasuke," was the snapped command, leaving no room for disobedience. "You won't like what I'll do if you don't..." The bite of the threat had the younger Uchiha following the order, dark eyes trying to find some place to focus on Itachi that wasn't the skin being revealed as that dark shirt was pulled off and wasn't his brother's face. He averted his gaze quickly when he realized that it was travelling slowly south towards the spot where their groins met and the hint of fine, black hairs peeked out from the top of Itachi's waistband.

Apparently, this amused the elder, considering the low chuckle that he heard and the hint of a smirk he could see out of the corner of his eye where he was currently focusing on the ANBU tattoo that still graced Itachi's shoulder. He remembered absently the day his brother had come home with it, shoulder red and irritated (_"Does it hurt?" "No, Sasuke." "Can I touch it?" "No." "Can I get one someday?" "Maybe someday, Sasuke."_), but was broken from his reverie by what he soon discovered to be Itachi's tongue tracing the length of his arousal, having no time to bite back the loud moan that followed when he was suddenly swallowed damn near whole.

He felt his brother's chuckle reverberate through him, again finding himself clawing at the weathered wood of the porch as he arched against that ridiculously skilled mouth (how the hell was Itachi so good at this anyway?). Lost as he was in the feeling, he didn't notice what else the elder was doing until _something_ was suddenly pressed into a place it most certainly _should not_ have been.

"What in the hell!" he choked out, squirming against the intruding finger (he realized that was what it was when it _wiggled_) and swallowing a groan of protest when Itachi pulled back away from his arousal, licking his lips in a way that made him damn near forget that the man had a finger up where it very well didn't belong.

"If you don't relax," his brother murmured, voice a little rough, "it's just going to hurt more..."

He tasted a distinct flavor (that he assumed must have been himself) in the kiss that followed, and despite himself (and the finger being pressed inside of him), he found that he was slowly melting under Itachi's touch. When the second finger was inserted alongside the first, he nearly bit his brother's lip to the point of bleeding before the elder pulled back with a hissed order of _'Relax!'_

"Asshole!" he spat back, flexing his hands to try and keep feeling in them as he craned his neck to see where Itachi knelt between legs that had been spread at a point in time he must have been distracted. As he tried to ignore the way the fingers inside stretched him (he had to wince as the third joined the rest), the sight of his brother reaching to the fastenings of his own pants held him captive. He watched the hand undo the fastenings, watched it dip inside and rub against the bulge that was plainly visible and swallowed hard, unable to deny the stirring it caused in his gut.

He could practically _hear_ the smirk in Itachi's voice when he spoke next, though the words (_"Do you like what you see, little brother?"_) were almost lost to him as the fingers inside him brushed against something that made him cry out, flecks of white dancing across his vision. The next thing he was aware of was his own sigh of protest as Itachi's fingers left him, though soon there was something else pressing against him.

"You have no idea, Sasuke," he heard his brother say against his lips, breath as hot as he remembered it, "how long I've held myself back from this..."

He opened his eyes (which he hadn't realized he'd closed) just long enough to catch a glimpse of the look of raw and open lust in Sharingan eyes before Itachi was in his mouth again, swallowing his screams greedily as everything was stolen from him.

By the end, he was so far gone that Itachi had him begging for more, moaning his name and wanting so badly to be able to pull him closer and tangle his fingers in raven hair. When it was over, he watched Itachi dress himself and leave without another word, and the first thing that he noticed once his brother was gone was that the rain had stopped.

After getting himself untied and redressed, he managed to make it five paces away from the porch before dropping to his knees and vomiting into what used to be his mother's herb garden, sun shining happily down on the house that was anything but.

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So! Hope that was okay! Reviews are lovely, really, and I do so enjoy reading them! There may or may not be a next chapter, we'll just have to see, though it might be a while before that happens (if it does). 


	3. Falling

Well here we are, chapter three! I wasn't exactly sure at first whether I was going to do more or leave it at what it was before, but I got bunnied, and here it is. This pretty much assures that there WILL be a fourth chapter, despite my original intention of making it a three chapter fic at most. Oops! Well, more for you! This chapter is pretty much comprised of suggestive stuff, but I do like it better than the second chapter. I still don't own it, though, and I still hope you enjoy it!

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It was just over two numb and sick weeks later that the memories began to invade Sasuke's dreams, bringing him a restless, exhausting sleep.

_"Brother! Brother, they'll be home soon, we shouldn't be-" Silenced by lips over his own, thin but strong fingers stroking through unruly spikes, down, and up again where fabric no longer hindered them. He shivered at the touch, always like the fire that Itachi spewed from his mouth like _he_ hadn't gotten to learn to do yet._

These things had become more frequent lately, a bit rougher, a bit more frantic. His brother had stopped talking to him as much, and seemed to be urging him to be quiet as well the way his lips pressed, insisting, against his.

'Brother!' he wanted to say, wanted to shake Itachi back to his senses because **he'd** been the one to say it should be a secret; they couldn't let Mother and Father know! 'Brother, we should stop!' but he wuoldn't have meant it, because he was feeling that pleasant dizziness and the tingling sensation that always came with this, nerves humming like an instrument that only Itachi could play.

His back was up against the wall, shirt being pushed up by his brother's skillful fingers and the way he squirmed at their touch. He could feel the way the wall was not smoothe, scratching against his skin and surely leaving little red welts that would be hard to explain if their parents saw. When Itachi's lips left his, he thought it would be the end of it, thought he could wobble shakily back to his room and collapse on the bed until the lightheadedness passed and he could face Mother and Father again. He thought, but he was wrong, his brother's lips instead descending to his neck, fingers leaving his chest and tugging the high collar aside.

When teeth bit down at the crook of his neck, he gasped, squirming in the older boy's grip. "Itachi!_" This time he was sure he felt his brother's shudder, heard the barest catch of breath as teeth bit down marginally harder. "That hurts, brother!"_

For a moment, everything seemed to retreat, silence all around save for his own quick breaths, and then he was spun around, pressed hard against the wall with a hot, hot breath against his ear.

"Shouldn't it hurt, Sasuke?" came the murmured reply, sending a shiver down his spine and causing a stir below his waist. Suddenly, it was if he'd jumped forward in time, the transition so smooth he hadn't even noticed it. "Don't you thrive on pain, little brother_?"_

When his hands were brought above his head to be pinned one-handed against the wall, he found himself shivering, trembling_ at the fire in Itachi's touch, just like when he was younger. He felt his brother's hips rock against him from behind, felt the hardness pressed against his backside, felt his own twitch in response as a shuddering breath escaped him._

"Itachi..." he breathed, eyelids fluttering as dull and painted nails raked up his chest and the grip on his wrists tightened painfully. A knee between his thighs had his legs spread willingly, a strangled moan spilling from his lips as fingers moved south to rub teasingly slow at the growing bulge there.

Lips and tongue tortured Sasuke's neck and shoulder (when had his shirt come off? He found he couldn't remember), teeth sinking in where his brother had bitten earlier and he was sure he felt the skin break, blood dripping slowly down his back as the pleasurepain drove him ever closer. He heard the gasp from his own lips, heard the low groan in response as Itachi ground against him again, wasn't sure if his eyes were open or closed though he saw stars.

"I-tachi, please, I w-wa-hnnnnn-want...**please**..." He arched his back, pressing back against the weight behind him and earning another groan from deep in his brother's throat that went straight to his groin. He trembled as the rest of his clothes slid to the floor, breathing quick and shallow at the rustle of cloth behind him. He nearly moaned again at the feel of Itachi pressed just there, hips held in place by that fiery touch and the feel of breath against his ear again.

"You disappoint me, Sasuke..." he heard, eyes widening in sudden shock, silent scream tearing itself from his throat as his brother slammed inside him in one swift and brutal thrust.

Sasuke's eyes shot open, an unknown name lost on the tip of his tongue as he stared at the ceiling in a cold sweat. His head turned slowly, dark eyes focusing on his curtains, fluttering in a breeze that shouldn't have been there because he was sure he closed the window before he went to bed. Catching his breath, he slid out from under the covers (noting to himself the slight bulge in his boxers) and moved towards the window, closing and locking it as he made sure to reset the bell-trap.

The dream was lost to him now as he flopped gracelessly back into bed, tugging the covers up with a huff to let them settle around his shoulders as he closed his eyes. Still, despite his exhaustion, sleep eluded him. He rolled onto his back, dark eyes once more staring at the ceiling as one hand snaked unconsciously down his body, only stopping as he felt fingertips brush against his lower belly.

Snorting his irritation, he slid his hand lower, dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers to solidly grip heated and hard flesh. If this was what kept him awake, he would deal with it and get back to sleep.

With that reasoning, he let his eyes slip closed, stroking himself slowly at first before falling into a steady pace. Biting his lip to stifle the sounds that threatened to escape, he swirled his thumb carefully, breath hitching and coming quicker as he stroked and squeezed, free hand fisting the sheets beneath him. Never one to torture himself, his speed increased as he saw fit, familiar tension building in his gut until it was almost too much.

Gasping out loud, his hand flew faster the closer he came to the edge, the taste of blood filling his mouth as he bit down again on his lip. Eyes closed, he didn't notice the shadow that watched from just outside his window, dark hair whipping in the Konohagakure wind.

His eyes were wide open as a sudden image flashed in his memory, but he was too late to stop himself, hand pumping one last time as he cried out his brother's name to the rafters and came, panting heavily and feeling suddenly sick. Sleep would not return to him this night.

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So? What'd you think? Still like it? Let me know, because reviews are like birthday cake, and who doesn't love birthday cake?  



	4. Eyes Half Closed

Okay! Finally got this chapter finished! I'm not as pleased with it as I wish I were, but then, I've never been good at keeping chapterfics going. Lots of stress and stuff lately, so I've been pretty busy, to the point where I almost lost this story entirely. But here it is! (I get the feeling that these chapters keep getting shorter, sigh.)

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It was one month and six days later that brought the Uchiha massacre's sole survivor back once more to the place that housed most, if not all, of his hated memories. 

The moon was full and high outside, casting eerie shadows through long-broken windows and insect-eaten screen doors that creaked in their tracks. He was tired from too many sleepless nights and exhausting dreams, wandering the halls of the manor with slow, heavy steps and half-lidded eyes. There would be but one other person who would come here, and he could only wonder at the almost-wish that he would run into him (maybe then he could ask "why?").

Leaning heavily against the wall next to Itachi's room, he closed his eyes and let the memories of soft lips and butterfly kisses and false kindness envelop him (_here, right here, so many many nights outside this room_). He frowned at the sound of creaking doors and slid down into a sitting position with a soft sigh, too tired to follow the clues this time as he stared across the hall (Itachi could find him if he wanted, he wasn't going to play that game again).

When he closed his eyes again it was like a lucid dream with the feel of a gentle breeze against his skin and the sound of cicadas that weren't there buzzing steadily in his ears.

"Take me back there..." he whispered to the not-so-empty house of ghosts and the not-quite-dream that pressed cool fingertips to his forehead and whisps of breath against his lips. He must've been feverish, the way the world tilted when his eyelids fluttered open once more, the swish of a cloak echoing loudly inside his head as he leaned against a cool touch that he couldn't find the source of. Letting his eyelids droop again, he sighed, only one word escaping in the faintest whisper as sleep finally claimed him.

"_'tachi..._"

Sasuke woke to nothing, feeling more rested than he had in weeks past and at the same time completely off. He realized moments later that he was in his old room, sitting up suddenly (too suddenly) and nearly falling back over when the entire room spun unmercifully.

It took him a full minute after that to notice the sound of running water (pathetic time for someone who should sense things by the second, he scolded himself), and another followed as he managed to steady himself on his feet. He must've been sick, he reasoned, if his senses were this off. But then, the past month he'd been tetering on the edge of it all; sanity, exhaustion. _Break._

As he made his way down the hall (so different in the daytime, almost as if he would walk around a corner and there she'd be, smiling at him and handing him his lunch like she was never dead, like he'd never seen her blood spattered on the conference room walls), he wondered just how this abandoned place still had running water at all. It was coming from the bathroom, he noted, and despite the fact that he _knew_ it was Itachi there, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but listless (it was always so surreal, after all).

There was steam drifting from under the door, and Sasuke hesitated only a brief moment (eyes half closed, because his life was a dream anymore) before sliding it open to see exactly what he knew he would (and yet still didn't truly expect).

His brother was washing himself outside the bath, rinsing with his back to the door and not even flinching when he stepped inside. For the briefest of moments, he could see the blood rinsing from that tall frame, staining the bath tiles a watery pink, but it was gone in an instant.

It seemed like an eternity of watching those perfect muscles ripple under lightly tanned skin (always perfect in everything, that was Itachi) before the man finally turned to regard him, voice resounding off the tiles in a tone that spoke volumes of how he'd already won.

"Join me, Sasuke," that voice said, and he was too broken not to comply. Nothing ever made sense these days, he reasoned; reality itself was skewed for them. And it was with that in mind the younger Uchiha easily peeled off his own clothes, moving to join his brother just as they had when younger (though now he had barely half the lucidity and half the life in dull obsidian eyes and no smiles to give).

He washed himself silently, feeling all the time Itachi's eyes on him though whatever trance he was in kept him from caring. When he felt arms around his shoulders and fingers snatching the soap away, he let his back be washed, let the man behind him lather shampoo in his hair and let the water rinse it all away (his purity with it, because surely this was wrong in some way or another).

So many questions pounded inside his head, so many 'why's it was starting to give him a headache. And yet, at the same time, this strange feeling of a waking dream kept him from asking a thing when he felt damp hair tickle his shoulder and lips and teeth following shortly. It kept him silent (compliant) as he was pulled back against that firm chest, as he was turned, as lips met lips and Itachi's tongue explored all it wanted.

"Why don't you try to stop me this time, little brother?" came the murmur then, though he was so desensitized by now that he barely heard it and didn't have an answer to give. Half-closed eyes (always half-closed, drifting on in a lucid dream) gazed blankly into Itachi's, and then down past those distinctive lines to his lips, barely able to hear the words he read on them. _"Have I broken you that much so quickly?"_

Sasuke's legs chose that time to give out on him again, and he noted how his brother made no move to stop his fall, standing perfectly proud before him still as if to symbolize just how little he meant. After a moment, though, the man (boy? was he still a boy? was he ever a boy?) did reach down, pulling him up rather roughly and lifting him into the bath. He looked up long enough to watch as Itachi lowered himself into the hot water, frowning just slightly at the way they didn't quite fit in it as they used to, as he'd filled out a bit and become more lanky, sure signs of the approaching teenage years.

Limbs were sprawled awkwardly and tangled, and he had the thought that he should feel exposed before this man who used to be his brother but became the sort of person who would murder his flesh and blood and rape his little brother. The look in those crimson eyes only fueled his slight unease, but instead of fighting it, he simply gave in, closing the distance between them and latching on for dear life just to hear his name from those lips again. To make Itachi's control slip, even for a second, was a victory in itself.

"What are you doing, Sasuke?" that voice asked as he left his own marks behind.

"Isn't this what you want from me?" he returned, capturing Itachi's lips again and running his tongue over them, almost feeling the urge to laugh at the words that resonated against his own lips. _"Is this what you really want?"_

_Why does it matter what I want? You've never cared before,_ he thought, moving down as he took in a breath.

As his mouth closed over heated flesh under the water, he resented the fact that Itachi would not let him drown.

* * *

So? Like? Don't? I notice I'm getting fewer reviews with each chapter, and it's kind of disappointing. I know the style has probably changed since the amazing first chapter, but that's why I tend to stay away from chapterfics in favor of oneshots and drabbles, so work with me here. Also, I may or may not do another chapter. I'm losing this thing fast, so I don't really know where to go from here if I continue. 


	5. Broken

Hey guys, whut! I randomly got the inspiration earlier today for a final piece of this fic. Yes, you heard me. Epilogue. Very short, rather disjointed, not quite stylistic as the rest, but this is it. Cliffhanger, too, hm? Oh, whatever have I done to you? Don't worry, I'll write something else sometime soon, I think. Be patient with me.

* * *

That night, the two remaining Uchihas took their leave from Konoha together. 

Sasuke never looked back, not once, not even to see if the ANBU chased them. So long as Itachi walked before him, he would follow, a broken, hollow shell of what he once was until night would fall and the pain and the pleasure would bring him back to life again. His screams were always muffled by a slender hand (it no longer bore the ring marked scarlet as his eyes, nor the deep violet nails) or a velvet mouth (it rarely spoke, even less than before and was never comforting), what tears he did shed left to fall on their own, never wiped away. Without Itachi, he was a dead man walking; lifeless and soulless as a broken doll.

_Broken. Are you happy now?_

There was nothing left for him but the hunger for a fiery touch, no passion or drive other than what Itachi gave him, bent to his brother's will as a puppet and drawn to the pain and the sin of it all.

Still, he could but wonder how much longer he could run; how much longer until it was over. He could only wonder just how long it would be before Itachi simply left him to die.

By the end of his week long leave, nearly the entirity of the village was in an uproar. There was no evidence of struggle, nothing out of place at all, save the tousled covers in one room of the Uchiha manor and what appeared to be a recently cleaned and used bathroom. There was no note, no blood, no body. Not a single soul had seen the two depart, and none could fathom where their tragic prodigy had gone, nor would they have even thought he would have gone on the arm of his only remaining family member. The frustration and determination would flow off of Naruto in waves that would reach the country's borders and beyond, but it would still not be enough to find his once best friend.

Due to Itachi's tendancy for long leaves of absence with no contact, it took the Akatsuki another two weeks before they realized he wasn't coming back.

Together broken, twisted sin, never whole, ever restless wanderers.

* * *

Short, I know, but like I said, epilogue. So this is it. Breaking Me Down is officially over! What'd you think? It didn't end up near where I thought it would, but hey, a story flows how it flows, and I don't always have control over where that flow leads. X3 Reviews are candy And I like candy. Especially watermelon candies. 


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